


Faultlines

by dai



Category: Vassalord
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dai/pseuds/dai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn’t Charley, the humble priest-to-be; he’d become a ravenous monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faultlines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canniballistics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/gifts).



Even the nights were hot.

Charley worked the buttons of his sleeves open, rolling them to his elbows as he stood on the balcony of the hotel room that had been booked last minute. His plans, of course, had deviated from returning home—a request sent via email from the archbishop before he’d boarded the plane to Rome. He hadn’t expected to be sent to Cairo after spending nearly two weeks abroad in Moscow. There’d been a considerable number of reports about several small covens banding together and terrorizing the locals, but with Charley’s arrival, things had settled into an eerie sort of quietness he disliked about vampires. They were aloof creatures, destructive and alienated from God’s love because they had no reservations when taking a life. His analysis hadn’t been extremely detailed overall; little to go on since the trail had gone cold before he’d shown up.

Pointless efforts, he thought, and he turned away from the brightening skyline to return to the room.

It was quiet for the most part. His luggage still sat by the door, his laptop the only thing he’d bothered to unpack. Charley assumed he wouldn’t be there long enough to warrant sorting through his personal belongings anyhow, and he checked the progression of the information download he’d requested as he made his way to the bed. He hadn’t slept in almost thirty hours, time zones reversed and layovers a modern-day method of torture. The urge to sleep was overwhelming, but the need to eat even more. He could count the days since his last taste of... 

Charley swallowed and fell back against the mattress, closing his eyes and unconsciously loosening the tie around his neck so he could breathe. If he was busy, he didn’t think about it, but under such relaxing circumstances, the knot in his stomach only continued to expand. It worked its way into his throat, the tips of his fangs eventually digging into his tongue and the inside of his lip. His own blood did nothing, too bitter and metallic to soothe the hunger. Perhaps he wasn’t doing anyone any favors lying there. 

His reservations, however, were strict on this: he refused to call him. 

“He would only get in the way,” was the confirmation, disliking the constant reminder of what it was he'd left in California. "He doesn't need to be here."

They'd had another argument about something irrelevant before he’d left. It had been after he fed, the body he knew so intimately sprawled out across the bed and barely covered with a sheet to hide the indecent parts. Charley could remember touching his thigh, fingers tracing the puncture wounds he'd left and wondering why they hadn't healed yet, but he couldn't remember what he'd said to him. Something mean and untrue, he was sure. Even if he broke his own rules and contacted him, there would be no way he'd come. To the desert and the harsh sun. It was summer in Egypt, and he couldn't risk the possibility of hurting him with his selfish requests. 

Charley would work and starve, then return home as if nothing at all had happened. It was more than a century of tradition they hadn't revised, and he didn't know how to fix it.

"Why..."

A knock at the door disconnected him from the thought of that face, jarred back into his present situation. Charley breathed in deep, smelling human just outside. Room service, he assumed. He hadn't ordered anything since the check-in, but the customs were slightly different. Maybe it was entirely complementary, and besides, the Vatican paid for all his expenditures outside the country anyway. 

He sat up, adjusted his shirt, and answered the second knock with a stern face.

"Can I help you?"

It was a woman dressed in traditional garb, making it difficult to see her face when she looked away from him to the floor at his insistence. The perfume she wore smelled of lilies and something stronger, the scent heavy and unusual to him. Almost overpowering. When she held out her hands, wrists adorned with bracelets, his eyes fell to the shape of her fingers and-- Black nail polish? An absurd detail, and suddenly, Charley noticed more than he'd initially assessed about the woman. The scarf around the face was disorderly, hastily thrown on and almost careless wrapped around the neck. Some of her hair escaped the hijab as well, and he took a step back, retreating into the room just so he wasn't standing in the hall. She didn't follow, head tilting up.

"You can't come in." He felt sick, elated and upset all at once. "Master."

It took two seconds to read the pout on his mouth, and he pulled the material away, dropping it carelessly at his feet.

"I came all this way to see you, and that's all you have to say?" He huffed, leaning to look over his shoulder. "What a terrible son."

"No, I... That is, _Master_ — You shouldn't have come. I'm working." Then, Charley stared at him. "How did you know where to find me?"

Johnny gave him a grin, the tips of his forked tongue poking out between his teeth. He looked absolutely pleased with himself, and Charley knew he wasn't going to get a direct response. It was always the same vague teasing, and he'd come to expect very little from these useless conversations of theirs.

"I have my ways," he said, ruffling at Charley's hair as he would a child. "Come on, Cherry. Don't leave me out here."

"Charley." It left his mouth a grumble even as he nodded and gave him room to enter. "Hurry up."

The invitation was enough for the time being, and he slipped inside with a wave, leaving Charley to retrieve the scarf and his scattered thoughts. He'd been expecting a fairly uneventful night before setting off to investigate the truth behind the rumors, but that idea was slowly dissolving into nothing. Johnny gave an amused coo at something behind him, and he shut them in with a heavy sigh. 

\--

As it turned out, someone had sent a package to their condo with prior details to the case he was now working on.

Johnny, of course, had taken it upon himself to open it, and though Charley had given him grief about it, he was grateful to him for bringing it. He'd caught a red-eye to Cairo as soon as he could, adopting the clothes he'd arrived in for effect. That, and it would have helped had the sun risen before he'd made it to the hotel. Of course, he'd asked about that too, but he'd only gotten a pat on the shoulder before he'd bound off to steal Charley's bed.

There were other things he wanted to ask - how he'd found the right place, what had he done about transporting a coffin, how long was he staying - but he didn't press. Instead, rather than sleeping, he sat at his laptop and read.

The cases of unexplained deaths had risen by fifteen percent in the last two months, which was considerably high for any city, and each suffered from the same cause of death: a severed jugular and extreme blood loss. Some of the files went on to note anomalies between a few of the deceased, but they were incomplete and mostly irrelevant without concrete evidence. Charley figured he could take half the day to interview the witnesses and check for leads that way; it was roundabout and slow, but it yielded better results than involving the local police. Most of the time, they weren’t as cooperative as they pretended to be either. 

Charley rubbed at his forehead and leaned away from the screen, glancing at the time. 

He’d only been working for a few hours, and sunlight was already beginning to pour into the room through parts of the curtains. He went to the windows, drawing them tightly closed and hoping it would be enough until he put in for a room exchange. Johnny was asleep - or feigning it very well - and he’d taken up most of the bed with his sprawling across it. There would be time to rest when this was over. Charley sat on the edge of the mattress, drawing the sheet up around him.

_Sleep well, Master_. He smoothed his hand along his side and left the room without leaving a note.

\--

"CHEEERRRRYYYY!!"

He bristled at the sound, caught in the traffic of the bazaar's evening crowd. The temperature hadn't changed, still intolerable despite the sun having set a few hours before. He'd made little progress in the investigation, irritable and exhausted, and the last thing he needed was someone hanging off his arm and trying to make his life difficult. Charley pretended to ignore him, continuing on toward one of the mosques he suspected knew more than they'd let on. There were people everywhere, bartering and exchanging goods that ranged from an assortment of things, and he thought it was good he hadn’t brought Sacra with him this time. The dog wouldn’t have made a very capable companion with all the distractions Cairo offered, and Charley didn’t need the extra worry it would have caused had he gotten into trouble sniffing things out.

“Cherry, Cherry.” Then again... “Wait for me! Come onnnnn.”

He did have to deal with _that_. 

Charley turned just as a body slammed into him, arms sliding around his neck to haul him close. At this proximity, he could see the dark kohl Johnny had smeared around his eyes, and against his better judgment, a flush spread across his cheeks. They appeared intimate in public, he knew, and there wasn’t any helping how his stomach clenched. Through the animals, fruits, and thick spices, he could smell his blood. Charley shoved him away rather roughly. 

“You were supposed to stay at the hotel. I don’t have time for your games.” 

A pout. “You promised we’d do something fun while we were here.” 

“What?! I did not. You’re making that up!!”

He hadn’t even seen him all day.

“But you did!” Johnny’s expression changed, a little more somber and collected. “ _You shouldn’t have come. I’m working._ ” 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” 

“You need to lighten up, Cherry. We’re in Egypt. Look at all the things we could do.”

“No.” 

“There’s camels—”

“No.”

“And the pyramids—”

“No.”

“Oh! And a romantic boat ride down the Nile~”

“...absolutely not. Go back to the hotel, and wait for me.”

In response, Johnny simply wrapped an arm around Charley’s and adhered to his side. It was the first time he noticed that he’d exchanged his normal clothes for something cooler--loose pants and an open vest that hung off his torso as if it was two sizes too big. He didn’t comment, continuing on his previous course before he’d been so rudely interrupted. Nothing would come of Charley telling him just how natural he fit into the background as if he belonged there. 

\--

They interviewed an older man named Alim just outside the building. He spoke poor English, and Charley’s Arabic wasn’t much better. Between them though - and Johnny’s distracting input - he managed to get enough that said he was heading in the completely wrong direction. The bodies had only been recovered nearby; the actual scene of the crime was somewhere else, yet to be determined. Charley thanked him and dragged Johnny away before the thought of entering the mosque appealed to him. He refused to have a place of worship disrespected, his own or not. 

“This is a waste of time,” he said, pushing him away once they’d left the central passage. He didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. “We’re being led in circles. Someone knows the Church has been involved.” 

“You don’t think it’s a vampire.”

Charley eyed Johnny and his sober tone. 

“I don’t know just yet. Let’s go back.”

Excluding his master’s sticky fingers through the market, the trip to the hotel was rather uneventful. His request for another room had been seen to, belongings moved and arranged again so he could work without interruption. But it was still early into the evening, barely past midnight. Johnny seemed restless, pacing and smoking through half a pack of cigarettes before wandering over to pester him. Charley had written up a brief report already, so there wasn’t much to keep him from when a pair of arms draped around him. He felt Johnny’s breath close to his ear, and his eyes almost crossed looking at his laptop screen. 

“What are you doing?”

“Do I need a reason?” He moved closer, and the warmth soaked into him. “You should take a break.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re skipping meals again. And when’s the last time you got some sleep, huh?” 

Charley shoved him away and stood, disliking his need to dictate the things he knew too well already. It was a constant reminder that only grew in intensity the longer he refused to surrender to it. He didn’t look at him, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt and slowly untucking the ends of it from his pants. 

“I can take care of myself. Please don’t say anymore about it.” 

He left him for the bathroom, letting the shower run several minutes before stepping in. The separate tub would have interested Johnny, he thought, but he was too swept up in the water pounding over his head to think about it properly. He wasn’t going to last if he didn’t feed; the sleep deprivation he could deal with. But there was an ache settling itself in his chest and in his throat, burning like he’d catch fire if it wasn’t quenched. Forehead to the wall, he gave a sigh and tried to suppress it once more. It would have been easier had _he_ not shown up.

The rush of it...

Its sharp scent...

Charley opened his eyes and growled, Johnny’s naked silhouette dark against the fall of the curtain. He wasn’t imagining it now, the aroma of blood overpowering in the confined space, and saliva built in his mouth, fangs grazing his lower lip. His fingers clenched and gave him no viable sense of restraint, slick from the water and useless. He couldn’t go anywhere, trapped in the shower, and rather than feeling embarrassed, he was angry. Angry with Johnny for showing such disregard for his wishes, and angry with his own lack of self-control. The animalistic urge to tear him apart and lick him clean from the inside out abruptly washed over him, and Charley cringed, losing his breath when he tried to speak. 

“What--”

“I know you want it, Cherry.”

“I don’t...” He panted, shaking his head even as he was racked with a shudder. “I said no.” 

“Just think,” Johnny murmured, dragging a finger through some of the blood that had welled near his collarbone, “how good you’ll feel after.” 

“Nnn...” 

“It’s okay to give in once in awhile, you know.” 

Charley lurched forward and found his hands tangling into dark hair before he could stop himself, threading down to the scalp so he could jerk Johnny’s head back and easily expose his throat. He didn’t fight him, chuckling under his breath and stretching lazily into the touch.

“That’s a good boy.” 

Johnny traced his fingers along the curve of his spine, and Charley was lost.

He ripped open flesh, digging his teeth in deep and choking on the first taste. Weeks of persisting on nothing, and finally, it was filling him up. A swallow, and he took another mouthful without breathing, tongue lapping at the excess trying to drip down his chest. He made a sound, wedging his nose just beneath Johnny’s chin and nipping hard enough to break the skin there. A lick, smearing red along his neck in a nonsensical pattern, and he sucked in more of it until his stomach flared with something foreign, something not quite hunger. Something frighteningly like desire.

Johnny let out a deep sigh.

“Drink it all up,” he breathed, fingers stroking at the wet mess of blond hair, “Chris.”

They were pressed to one of the walls now, the back of Johnny’s hand covering his mouth to stifle the ragged groan building in his chest. Charley had moved lower and dipped his teeth in at varying intervals as if to sample the flavor, almost sickly sweet and satisfying. He didn’t want to stop, gulping more than he could hold at one time in his mouth and feeling it run down his chin. The fact that they were both nude hadn’t even registered, the bloodlust consuming him and creating another person in his stead. He wasn’t Charley, the humble priest-to-be; he’d become a ravenous monster. The very thing he’d sworn to destroy had taken over, and there was no concern for Johnny’s well-being, drinking and drinking until he felt sick and light-headed from the heat in his veins. He settled on his knees, lips leaving a bloody imprint down Johnny’s torso. Charley inhaled, savoring the heat of his skin and the texture of the fluid on his tongue. His teeth grazed a hip.

Johnny was aroused. It was hotter between his thighs, the jut of his cock a near distraction from the task at hand, and Charley’s gaze dropped to look at it, thumb lightly touching the vein running the length of it. 

“This, right here...” 

“Chris,” he protested, voice an octave higher than it was a second ago. “That’s—”

He wrapped his fingers around him, tilting his head so he could lean in and bite into his inner thigh. Blood overflowed, the excess splattering against Charley’s chest and running into the drain, and his breath caught, idly moving his wrist to stroke him as he drank. It was an unconscious effort, the shake and jerk of Johnny’s hips brushed off in favor of the sharp taste sliding down his throat. More, he needed more. He squeezed, and Johnny moaned, the sound echoing and soaking into the tile. He braced a hand on Charley’s shoulder, writhing and gasping quietly.

“It’s good.” He looked up at him, his lips and chin stained a deep burgundy. “Master...”

The expression on Johnny’s face was soft, conflicted in a way Charley had never seen before, and he paused, blinking into focus their current situation. He was still on his knees, Johnny pushed as far into the wall as he could possibly go. The weight of the flesh in his hand felt surreal, and the blood he’d just consumed instantly rushed to his cheeks. He released him quickly, sliding back to put space between them. The rush made him dizzy and lethargic, too heavy to move, but he braced himself with a hand and pushed up until he was half standing, half leaning. Charley wiped at his mouth, trying to scrub away the evidence as he started to climb out of the shower. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Tears stung his eyes. “I can’t.”

He fled the room and didn’t look back.

\--

Charley found himself cornered down a lone alley hours after the incident, revived and far more alert with the meal he’d just had. He hadn’t thought about the aftermath though, how he’d touched Johnny and left him there without a single explanation. Too humiliated to even forgive himself for slipping, he’d thrown himself into his work. Several leads had died too prematurely to help, and when Alim had sent a message to meet him near their original rendezvous point, Charley had found the poor man on the ground with his throat slit. Talking with the local police had only wasted time. They were more interested in trying to interrogate him as a possible suspect than looking at evidence, and Charley had quickly cooperated to hurry along the process. By then, the sun had begun to set again. 

He first realized he was being followed when the shadows before him hadn’t faded into the background as the others did. And now--

“Psenio was right. What are you doing here, priest?” 

There were four of them. The one who spoke, tall but average in appearance, seemed to be the leader, and tucked in the waistband of his pants was a gun he probably had every intention of using on him at some point in the next several minutes. At least it wasn’t the knife that had taken Alim’s life. Charley touched the wall behind him with his hand, considering his options. He hadn’t brought many weapons with him, having sent most of them ahead before being deferred to Egypt, and the only practical choice was the grenade stashed in his pocket. He would make a reminder about looking into possible upgrades once the Vatican paid him, but for now, he was going to focus on de-arming them.

“Looks like he’s too scared to answer you, Madu.”

“Yeah,” another chimed in, “Are you gonna piss yourself, _priest_?” 

Charley bit his tongue and silently said a prayer for their souls. 

“Who are you working for?”

“Not really your concern, is it?” Madu asked, pulling the gun from his trousers and releasing the safety. “You’re going to be dead long before you find out.” 

He grit his teeth, slowly wiggling the grenade into a position he could easily grab it if he was going to try dodging the bullet fired at him, but a high-pitched squeak distracted him from the task. It came as a flutter, light and fast, and the alley was suddenly filled with hundreds of bats, easily slipping between the limbs of the men to settle into a solid form before him. Charley recognized that wild black hair and the hard grin on Johnny’s face before he could find his tongue. 

“M-Master—” 

“Having all the fun without me, Cherry?” 

“How does this look fun to you?!” His hand clutched at the back of his now materialized shirt, a silent thanks that he hadn’t abandoned him. “They’re trying to kill me. And since you’re here, they’re going to kill you too.”

“They probably thought you were the cutest--”

“Don’t finish that sentence. I refuse to hear it.”

“H-hey!!” 

Johnny and Charley stared at Madu simultaneously, annoyed and exasperated both at the diminishing intent to end the life they’d threatened to take. The man waved his gun as if to keep their attention, but Johnny rolled his eyes, waving his hand at them dismissively. 

“They’re as boring as you are sometimes.” 

“...what?” Charley’s tone was flat. “You can leave this to me. I will handle it myself.” 

The shot that rang out in the alley was abruptly loud, Charley’s mouth falling open in silent reply as if he remembered something to add, and he smelled the tang of blood long before he felt it rolling down his cheek. He touched it, a small trickle that only itched until he wiped it away. Another few inches, and the bullet - now in the brick wall at his back - would have been lodged in his skull. Johnny’s eyes narrowed, the tip of his finger rubbing at the small abrasion it had left along his cheekbone, and he smeared it into the sleeve of his shirt, looking at the four men who suddenly didn’t appear as brave as they’d once had. He gave them a wicked grin, outrage darkening his eyes as the amusement stretched his lips to hint at the fangs he flashed. 

“No way! I’m outta here!” 

Three of them scattered, leaving Madu and his lone gun to face off against them. 

“Leave this to me~” 

Johnny lurched forward, scattering into the bats he’d arrived in, and as soon as they launched at the other man, he dropped the weapon and fled as well. He pursued, and Charley stopped to retrieve the gun before racing after them.

“Wait!”

He sighed, hurrying to keep a certain vampire from causing an unnecessary mess.

\--

“...a cult. Really?”

“Yes.” Charly pushed up his glasses, closing the door behind him as he entered their condo. He’d just returned from Rome, having given the archbishop the same lecture more than half a day ago. With the plane ride back to the States, he’d taken some time to think about what it was he wanted to say to Johnny when he saw him. The first, of course, was to explain everything that had happened in Cairo. After following Madu and his men, who weren’t apparently smart at all, they’d discovered a small sect operating on the outskirts of the city that had specialized in sacrificial worship; they’d killed their victims very much like a vampire would, puncturing their veins and draining them dry before disposing of the bodies in the most unlikely places. “You see, they weren’t vampires. I assumed that to be the case when examining the photos of the bodies sent along in the files. Their wounds were much too large to be teeth marks.” 

“Then why did you drag it out so long, hmm? We could have come home and had some long deserved private time together.” 

He shook his head, loosening the tie around his neck. 

“I don’t expect you to understand. Master, I...” Charley hesitated, watching him from where he stood and the way he slouched all over the sofa. Sacra, who had been kept there, rested just at the end with his head pillowed on Johnny’s legs. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh?” He craned his neck, peering at him over the edge of the book he’d been reading when he’d come through the door. “What for?” 

“Back at the hotel...” Charley dropped his hands to his sides. “I felt like I had taken advantage of you. You’re obviously not hurt, and I’m very grateful for that. But I... I did those things without thinking. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Chris.” 

His voice was closer than it had been, and when he looked up, they were standing face to face. Johnny reached out to brush at the hair across his forehead. The touch seemed strange and pacifying all at once, and Charley grabbed at his wrist, wanting to keep that distance between them.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I know.” 

“But Master... I will never be that person. I can’t do something like that without-- I’m already so far from Heaven’s reach. What happens if I surrender myself entirely to it?” 

“You may think that now, but things will change. Those crosses and books of yours won’t save you where it really counts.” 

Charley squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head. 

“Please forgive me, Master.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” The same sarcasm accented his voice, and he stuck his tongue out at him, the seriousness of the moment lost in that childish demeanor of his. “Maybe one day, my sweet Cherry~” 

“You’ll come to regret saying that.” 

Johnny gave him a peculiar look before laughing, holding his sides to keep from tumbling over. Charley’s face fell.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He chuckled again, smothering the sound with his palm until he couldn’t keep it restrained, and it was so loud, even Sacra added in a sharp bark to accompany it.

“Master!” Johnny shook his head, refusing to tell. Charley wanted to strangle him and wondered if it would be worth it in the long run. “MASTER!!”

Still no answer, but at least, for a little while yet, things could be normal again.


End file.
